


Twelve Days of Christmas

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Hate to Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is a rich unsociable artist who needs somebody to look after his house over Christmas. Louis Tomlinson, a writer who absolutely detests all things festive, needs somewhere to escape for a few weeks. Zayn and Liam are the over-friendly neighbours, Niall is Louis' boss, and Gemma is Harry's sarcastic older sister. Oh, and there's a donkey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the Trisha Ashley novel of the same title, which I read every Christmas and NEEDED an AU for. Lots of festivity, fun and Louis with sweater paws.

Christmas time in a hospital was always a strange experience, festivity and misery clouding together to create a sickly sweet attempt at nostalgia. There was still two weeks to go until the twenty fifth, but mistletoe and tinsel was draped haphazardly along any surface that allowed it, the baubles hanging at the end of each hospital bed a painful reminder that for some, this is their last Christmas. On the other hand, in other parts of the building new lives were being brought into the world around the happiest time of the year, meaning that their birthdays are likely to be remembered purely on principle. Life and death mixes together within hospitals, and the added level of celebration means the whole holiday feels slightly bittersweet.

Louis never predicted that he’d spend yet another Christmas within the walls of a hospital room. Once was enough to tinge his experience of the festive season, but twice was pushing his tolerance of it altogether. Whilst this time was slightly different, it still opened freshly healed wounds and poured salt in them.

With an awful tasting tea from the hot drinks vendor in the hospital cafe in his hands, Louis padded slowly through the ward to where his grandmother was lying peacefully in one of the beds. He paused outside the door, taking a deep breath in to prepare himself, and then pushed it open gently, so as not to disturb her. She didn’t wake, despite the slight squeaking of the hinges, and Louis puffed out a sigh of relief mixed with sadness. The doctors had warned him she didn’t have many hours of her life left, and Louis would have liked a few more moments to speak to her, but perhaps it was better if she went in her sleep.

Slumping into the scratchy hospital chair beside the bed in resignation, Louis put his head in his hands, memories of two Christmases previous forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind with a sharpness that stung. The last time he was in this hospital, it was to identify the body of his husband who had fallen through the ice on a frozen pond in an attempt to save a drowning dog. Louis had never forgiven him for being so stupid.

Christmas was never something Louis had been excited by, until he met Tom. Tom was excited by everything, from his job as a florist to the sound of birds in the morning. He injected life into everything around him, including Louis, and Louis found himself falling so hard that they were married within six months of knowing each other; the new Tom Tomlinson providing many jokes on their wedding day. His childlike enthusiasm for everything was contagious and  so every year at Christmas the Tomlinson household became a little more extravagantly decorated, and there was always a massive feast prepared. They were young, and halfway to having a family, until that Christmas morning two years earlier when Tom had just gone out for an early Christmas morning jog, leaving Louis to lay in bed and await his return so the festivities could begin. However, instead of his returning husband, he received a policeman on his doorstep. Louis almost laughed in his face.

“Sorry, you can’t have the wrong person. Tom is just on his way back, he’s cooking dinner for us tonight, we’re going to have parsnips and…” The rest fades out, as Louis promptly fainted.

Back in the hospital room, Louis’ attention was drawn back to the familiar, fragile woman laying there as a small cough escaped her lungs. Louis' head snapped up to assess her face for any sign of distress and was caught off guard by her frosted blue eyes gazing fondly at him. He jumped out of his seat to stand beside her, taking one of her frail hands into his and stroking his thumb across her weathered skin. His grandma was a tiny woman, a feature that ran in the family, but her soul was uncontainable.

"Louis my dear, why do you look so sad? It's Christmas!"

Louis choked back a sob, and gave her a watery smile.

"I'm not sad, Nan. Just thinking, that's all. How are you feeling, love?"

"I'm very tired. I think I'm going to sleep some more. You will be good for me, won't you? Keep yourself out of trouble?"

Tears were threatening to fall down Louis cheeks if he moved his face the tiniest bit, so he kept steady and plastered a smile on his face as he assured her that he would behave.

"Good, good. It's always nice to see you smiling, Lou."

With those words, her eyes closed. Louis looked away, unshed tears finally slipping, and he heard her final breath being peacefully exhaled without daring to look. After a few minutes of letting himself cry, he wiped his face and alerted the doctors.  

 

 


End file.
